


Tubs & Toys

by freeagentgirl, LadyPoly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blowjobs, Brief Mention of Suicide, Bubble Bath, Canon Universe, Confession, Cuddling, Fingering, Grace Kink, M/M, Messy hunt, Motherly Dean, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Tub kink, adult toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:57:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freeagentgirl/pseuds/freeagentgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPoly/pseuds/LadyPoly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Challenge: Just imagine that Dean is taking a bath in this tub, having some ‘happy time’ alone with adult toys, when Castiel walks in. He tries to hide this activity by keeping it underwater, nevermind his flush and heavy breathing. Cas notices immediately, but doesn't say anything, yet. He drags the conversation on until Dean can't sit still or even concentrate on the conversation anymore. Will Castiel take pity on him? Or will he torture the hunter more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tubs & Toys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goodgoth3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodgoth3/gifts).



> Dearest Readers,
> 
> It would appear that not only were several of my works copied and posted as someone else’s and that a few people I trusted have also stolen ideas, images created and scenes.
> 
> Should you compare my stories to something I have not said was inspired by a prompt, or that someone has stolen, in the comments of the story please share it with the link, or the place it was and the writer's name or username. I will do what I can to contact them on my own if I need to. Please do not engage them yourselves. If I need help, I will sound the bat signal ;)
> 
> While I have dealt with the people involved the best I can, with the help of loyal reader’s and friends, I have to ask that you please keep this in mind. In the last several weeks it has become very clear to me that the majority of fanfic writers don't understand plagiarism. Stealing ideas without crediting, borrowing quotes, etc and claiming it as your own-- plagiarism. A form of fraud. You cannot take something blow for blow, change the setting and claim that either. An homage is also not done this way, and if you believe so-- it’s still a form of plagiarism.
> 
> When you cite the fandom, the characters etc, you show that you have given credit for the idea. What the writer does next if not stating a prompt and it’s source is their own. The canon ideas are given credit, the divergent is their own.
> 
> Now sometimes similarities inspired by scenes happen, but there is no reason why a comparison of the two should be clear. There is no reason for one writer’s voice to still be evident if you were inspired by their story while claiming your own idea.
> 
> I want to say this didn’t anger me, or hurt me but it did. It infuriated me and to be honest, I didn’t know if I should continue.
> 
> If I am slower to post things now, it is only due to feeling unsure. I am very sorry.
> 
> All my love,  
> LadyPoly

 

 

*************

 

Tonight, it’s a hotel. The lines on the road were blurred and no amount of blinking fixed it. There was an ache in his back that nothing seemed to alleviate, and Sam looked past bone tired--even though he was snoring softly against the window with Dean’s coat over his shoulders--his own being too full of blood to even allow in the front seat. They’re exhausted and a little beat up around the edges, the internal Winchester batteries were dead. The bunker was just going to have to wait one more day.

 

Dean barely managed to get a clean shirt over his head before he pulled open the car door to book the only place left with any vacancy, having used the spare cash he swiped off some locals back at the bar while they waited for dark so they could take care of their local vampire pests. It paid for the only room left--the one with the sunken tub and overly large California King bed. He sighed. At least he and Sam wouldn’t have to cuddle.

 

Rousing Sam--who looked more like a five year old when he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Dean steered him towards their room and insisted he clean up first. Sam mumbled about being too tired, ready to flop face down into a bed. When he saw there was only one bed, though, his pout warmed Dean like it did in his teen years...

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile, “I know--I know, Sammy. Just do what you gotta do and get your hair real good. I’ll see if I can find us something to eat and then you can crash as hard as you want, I promise. No wake up calls, no rushing out. The clerk at the desk had said something about “enjoy it”, but whatever--if it means some extra Z’s in the morning, I’m not complaining if she thinks we're together.”

 

The last part got a chuckle from Sam, who sighed and kicked off his shoes before he stumbled into the bathroom.  When Dean finally heard the water start in the tub, after Sam loudly cursed there being a lack of a shower, he grabbed Sam’s laptop. When he found what he’d hoped for as he clasped the credit card in his hand and dialed the number with relief.  

 

Sam ventured out of his bath just as everything arrived, refreshed and staring at the pizza like a starved man. He took the box into his lap, not caring about the towel around his waist and dug in with a moan.

 

“I can’t even remember the last time you and I didn’t share a pizza and I had to pick toppings off of it.”

 

Dean smiled softly as he scoffed, “Figured tonight it was more than well earned after all that happened.”

 

He tossed Sam a bottle of chilled beer from the fridge and smiled, “Liquor store is literally to the right of the door on this side of the lot.”

 

The bottle hissed as Sam opened it. He looked like a dog whose ears had been scratched at the first few sips. The tension seemingly melted from his shoulders.

 

“Thank you, Dee,” he replied softly, the tiredness in his voice made Dean realize just how much a hunt like this took out of them now. Sam was getting older and suddenly that made him feel _old._

 

“Also, that tub is pretty awesome. I can almost completely lay down in it--jets and all.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at that statement--Well now, that is a _blessing_. He smiled devilishly as he formulated a plan in his head.

 

Part of the way through some Firefly marathon that Sam looked happy about on TV, and nearly two beer, the pizzas were gone and Sam snored softly beside him up against the headboard. With a sigh, Dean cleared their things away and readjusted the now t-shirt and boxer clad male beneath the covers before he reached for his duffle. He closed the bathroom door with a sigh and groaned at the heat that pooled in his stomach.  Sometimes Dean had needs and right now--the timing of that tub couldn’t have been more perfect.  He practically palmed himself as he thought of the water, of the fullness to come with his desires and personal time.

 

The zipper echoed, mixed in with the sound of running water as Dean watched the steam from it swirl around the room. He found several bath oils lined along the sink edge and realized just then that Sam had smelled like lavender when he emerged. Dean laughed softly to himself, there was no way that if Sam had used it, that he would be awake anytime soon.

 

In the end he settled for something less floral, something like peppermint and added it in slowly until the water gleamed in many colors from the lighting of the room. Bubbles formed as he added the unscented bottle as well and watched as they grew on the surface of the water before he slipped from his clothes. He discarded them in a pile, hands clasped around his favorite items from the hidden pouch sewn into the bag as he sat on the edge of the gleaming marble.

 

The room smelled heavily of peppermint now, inviting as it tingled his skin. He wiggled his feet in the warmth and just enjoyed the sensation of it as he rubbed the bottle that lay between his palms several times. The lube lid clicked open, feeling wet as his fingers slid together a few times to ensure its slickness. His breath hitched slightly, his hand moved down slowly towards his eager hole before a single finger slid into its warm, welcoming heat gently. He bit his lip as his eyes closed and he shivered. It had been _far_ too long since he did this last, his cock twitched with eagerness as a slow breath in allowed him to begin to open himself up.

 

He breathed with each push in and out, steadied himself on the edge of the tub before he inserted another finger. He was eager, impatient and felt so needy for the feeling he’d craved for a while now. It hadn’t always been like this, though. He never used to want such a thing or to even touch himself here. It wasn’t until after hell, after Castiel, when he began to ponder. The images in his head changed from just women to more than that, so much more.

 

Dean groaned as he took two fingers now, spread them and twisted his wrist as he opened up further. Eyes closed, his brain focused on the pleasurable stretch and slight burn that was needed in order to be able take in the large silicone toy. A toy he was certain that even Sam would be unaware of its existence, nestled inside him, and would fill him so sweetly until it hurt in the best way possible and pushed, applied pressure in all the right spots.

 

With a steady hand, he nudged the bronzed flesh colored toy against his entrance and slid his fingers away with an involuntary whine before he sinks it as deep as it will go. It winds him in this position, but the burn is so worth it as jolts of pleasure ripple across his stomach and dance along his spine. With a grateful breath he slides into the water, covered up to his neck as his toes stick out at the other end. A long, drawn out moan emanated from deep within his chest and his eyes fluttered closed as one hand stroked his member slowly, skin tingly from the oil, a heady combination of hot and cold when he moved teasingly.

 

He loved moments like these, ones where there is nothing to pull him away, no one to interrupt him as he dragged out every burst of arousal, every burn of pleasure. It built inside him, every breath faster than the last as it pushed him closer to the edge. He sank into a blissed out state, many images fluttered around him before they settled on one. Tonight it was blue eyes like he imagined the clearest oceans would appear to be and a voice deep, like soft rolling thunder, unmistakable and unique.

 

_Castiel._

 

It happened more frequently now whenever he did this. Despite all the magazines and porn--somehow he always ended up here, always at his best friend. The smell of musk and something like sandalwood, the feel of worn threads from the trench coat beneath his fingers and the feeling that those deep unending depths stirred within him when they locked eyes, like he knew everything despite never violating his mind. His imagination barely needed to try anymore, most likely to just hit repeat on the spank bank menu titles he had stored away by now.

 

The hunter, basked in the cool touch of the water against his skin, lost within the waves of pleasure that built steadily, never heard the rush of wings outside the bathroom door.

 

Castiel turned, senses on high alert and ready to defend the brothers, only to be greeted by the sounds of deep slumber. The Angel released the grip on his Angel blade when his eyes fell on the sleeping form of none other than Sam Winchester. The man’s face was peaceful, body curled in the blankets as he dreamed. Cas’ eyes darted around the room, took in the salt lines laid out as well as other preparations that came with either of them trying to sleep for what little they could get on most occasions.

 

_Where is Dean?_

 

He listened, his grace sparked again as he faced the bathroom door. Castiel turned the handle, the door squeaked as he did so, quietly. The lights inside were low, soft, and the smell that greeted him was pleasant.  Dean froze, he had looked up to say something about personal space to Sam but startled when the gaze he met was anything but that of his younger brother.

 

“Cas?!” he exclaimed hoarsely, voice raised a pitch higher than normal, his chest and cheeks flushed, moss green eyes wide in response to the Angel’s arrival. Castiel nodded as he took in the setting of the room curiously before his gaze fell upon his hunter. Dean turned yet another, deeper, shade of red.

 

Castiel frowned, “Are you alright, Dean? You seem fevered…”

 

Dean closed his eyes with a groan that was both pleasure and embarrassment, his movements wiggled the toy inside of him as he could not bring himself to release the hand still firmly gripped around his throbbing arousal. He swallowed harshly and tried to even out his breathing as he twitched at the sight of Cas before him.  He shivered deliciously.   _This must be the thrill people get when they fuck around in public--the thrill of being caught doing something dirty._

 

“I'm good...Cas,” Dean swallowed again, voice more even, “Really...”

 

Castiel leered at him, however, head tilted ever so slightly in curiosity and study.  Dean licked his lips and avoided eye contact with him and stared down at the water, thankful for a tub full of bubbles to cover the view, to hide his dirty little secret.

 

“You do not appear _good,”_  Cas mumbled softly as he shifted to lean against the door as he set the blade to rest on the counter.

 

Dean’s heart races inside his chest, his hand trembles despite its grip on his still very hard, very aroused cock. “In fact I came because you called to me, Dean, more so than just a casual passing thought--it was intense and desperate. I was worried you were in trouble.”  Dean almost laughs at those words. _Trouble, ha! I almost got caught fucking down on a dildo to thoughts of my best friend…I’d say that’s a problem, not trouble!_ There’s a pause in the room, Cas eyeing the sink and marble surround before his gaze intensely rests on Dean, “If you are not in trouble, Dean, and obviously not asleep like Sam and dreaming…then what reason would you have for calling to me in such a manner?”

 

 _Shit._ “Was just remembering something--you know it goes when you're _relaxing_ , sometimes things just pop up.” _Great choice of words._  Dean sighs. He’s going to have blue balls and a headache when this over, he can feel it.  Cas continues to stare, turning the words over in his head.

 

“So the memory--was of _us...”_ It’s a statement, not a fact as Cas’ voice trails off, and Dean finally looks him in the eye. They're far away. “Was it…was it one of the ones we don’t speak about?”  Dean frowns. _Way to gut a guy._

 

“No--no, jeez Cas...no...it was quite the opposite.” _Like our lips together and bodies touching opposite._  

 

The Angel’s eyes change, vessel straightening for a moment before he lowers his eyes, “I see.”  

 

Dean swallows, nodding, hoping he isn’t as transparent as he feels. Castiel hides his smile, however, as he closes his eyes. He was confused when he arrived, but he isn’t stupid. He knows now exactly what that feeling through his grace is. He’s experienced Dean’s dreams about this--appeared when he was asleep, calling for him. At first he wasn’t sure if he should enter the man’s dreams when things like that occurred, but staying invisible had its benefits. He just wanted to soothe him at the time, to give Dean comfort. Once Castiel saw them though--oh he wished they’d happen more often. Heaven be damned in what they thought of when it came to sex, what Dean dreamed was beautiful and full of love. He only wished it was him experiencing it, rather than watching it unfold in the mind of the man he loved with something of himself that was only a mere figment. Castiel licks his lips and with the most innocent look he can muster and asks, “What were you remembering about you and I?”

 

Well damn if Dean doesn’t wiggle from nerves, clenching his teeth when the toy presses against his prostate as he tries not to dig himself a deeper hole. He’s so distracted he doesn’t even see the spark in Cas’ eyes that says he knows, and he definitely wants to see how far Dean will go before he cracks. Dean goes for the first memory that he can think of that’s real--that isn’t a regret.

 

“When I found you in Purgatory--when I went from all that...” Dean swallows a gasp as he remembers it--all that anger, all that fear and worry and then the most beautiful thing in the world, those blue eyes and the voice full of gravel, “I was so afraid I’d never see you again--never hug you inside my arms again…” Dean’s fingers sprawl out as his eyes close, stroking up so slowly the water hardly disturbs at all. He shudders and Cas tilts his head as his eyes squint, “I missed you so much--you have no idea, laid awake worrying every second even when I was removing heads and tearing out throats.”  

 

The Angel looked downwards, licking his lips before his fingers twitched. Dean’s eyes flew open, voice choked off. Castiel smiled softly as the toy twisted ever so agonizingly slowly towards the left,  “It is a rather pleasant memory despite the circumstances--though I think I much prefer the ones without other people in them and where we are not running for our lives...When it’s just _us..._ ” he says softly, eyes gleaming in the low light as he eyes Dean. The hunter meets them, throat tight, body beginning to vibrate. _Son of a bitch!_

 

“Oh? And which one would you say falls into that category, Cas--pretty sure one of us is always running and or fighting for our lives...”  Cas finger twists at his side ever so slowly, once again causing Dean to bite his lip as the pleasure courses through his veins.

 

“True..however, do you remember the motel room--the day I told you your Father had beautiful handwriting as I was reading the journal?”  

 

Of course Dean does--the memory isn’t hard to think of-it was the moment Castiel said he thought he would kill himself. You don't forget something like that. Dean clears his throat of the awkward fight between emotion and arousal his body seems to start having.

 

“Of course..." Dean licks his lips, taking in a deep breath, “Why that one, Cas?”

 

Castiel smiles, pushing off the wall and hand now raised before him as he makes a dramatic twist of his wrist and Dean groans like thunder in the quiet bathroom, the sound echoing off the walls.

 

“You reminded me then, in that moment just how much you meant to me…before I said the words…it hurt, too…make you worry...but it showed me...” he stops before the edge of the tub, his other hand coming to skim through Dean’s short locks of hair as his fingers grasp it tightly--gently, tilting Dean’s head upwards to look at him as he takes in the shock, the lust and the questioning green in his perfect eyes, “How much I love you--how beautiful you are to me no matter how messed up I feel…” Castiel leans over him now, mouths inches apart, as Dean growls when his free hand slides into the water. Cas could care less about dry clothing as his fingers sprawl over the same ones Dean is using to grip himself firmly. Cas makes them move upwards slowly, “that you care...even if I did something wrong…you didn’t say much but--you never need to, I can see it...some of it at times,” Dean’s eyes close with a gasp of breath, and suddenly Castiel knows this is it, now or never, “I know what’s in your dreams, Dean. I want it, too…”

 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean wheezes, “You're serious...” The hunter's heart is like a freight train, out of control and beating so hard it feels like it might break his ribs.

 

“Yes, Dean...it would bring me great joy and privilege to…share such a thing--mmpph”

 

Castiel’s words rumble out inside Dean’s mouth as they kiss, lips sliding together, frantic to taste one another, clashing all teeth and tongue. It’s like fire and ice as they meet, bursting Dean out in goosebumps and like blowing an overloaded circuit in his brain. It’s heated and there is now water all over the floor when he pulls Castiel into the bath, uncaring of his clothing as his hands suddenly hastily start ripping away at his layers.  He wants this, and he wants this _now_ \--more than he even has the desire to breathe.

 

Castiel can feel the turn of the earth, has felt the void of space and has nearly touched the heat of stars. None of that matters now as Dean turns his entire existence upside down with his lips and sends him burning into a fever with his hands as his buttons tear from their stitching and his layers are peeled away with a desperate aggression that pools warmth inside his vessel. Dean is clawing at him, kissing at his skin and murmuring about wanting this for so long. Castiel can feel his eyes water, swallowing harshly he kisses the crook of Dean’s neck and tries to regain his focus as he trails his hands along Dean's wet naked muscles as they move. It sparks his grace, sending the urge through him like wild fire, desperate to be intimate just like in the hunter's dreams he's seen numerous times.

 

Dean gasps when Castiel pushes against him, the hunter fumbling with the zipper on his angel's now soaking wet pants as Castiel powers up. In a sweep of light and a gust of wind Cas is now naked, dripping and exposed above him, the Angel straddling his hips. Dean moans deeply, arousal twitching against Cas’ inner thigh, soaking in the sight of him. Dean can't help trailing his hands over Cas’ panting chest to stroke his abdominal muscles. He’s lean, broad and bronzed. He isn’t anything like Dean pictured--instead he’s more. Long lines of strength and masculine beauty in every sense of the term. Cas’ knees press into the tub as he sits, eyes taking in every detail, every movement of the hunter before Dean’s hands slide up Cas arms where both of his own hands lay sprawled over Dean’s biceps, shadowing the old handprint, causing an ache to form the bond again and renew it stronger than before.  

 

There’s only the sound of their breathing as the water stills, one long unblinking, unwavering look between them before Castiel surges into a kiss with his grace burning fire hot like blue flame against the underside of his human prison walls. He crushes Dean against him with raw power as he finds the thick outlines of his manhood and strokes with a passion he didn’t know he had. Dean’s head throws back in a sound that races his heart beat into motion--pounding loudly like the one he hears in the hunter's chest as his lips lay parted open, his eyes closed as he pleads for more from the man above him--begs him for completion.

 

Cas’ cock bobs heavily between them, thick and weighing on the back of his mind. Castiel is foggy, panting as his vessel screams for the man pinned below him, as the emotions in his chest make it feel tight and burn in the back of his eyes with tears.  Never did he think this would happen to him, _between them_. He can’t deny his love for Dean in this moment, cannot deny just how far he has come since the moment they laid eyes on one another. Closing his eyes, with one movement beneath Dean’s body, he lifts him against the high edges of the tub bringing himself face to face with Dean’s bobbing arousal before licking his lips.

 

“Cas…”  

 

Castiel licks the tip, fascinated at the way the water droplets form against Dean’s oiled skin, the way they drip off into the jostled water inches below him where Castiel’s arms now hold him securely. He groans softly, nose nudging at the silicone toy securely still placed between Dean’s legs as he watches the muscles around it contract and let go with each of Dean’s deep panting breaths. The Angel purrs as he nuzzles his face in Dean’s groin softly, the hunter shivering at the feel of his thin stubble against his cock.

 

“Dean...” he growls, voice deep and lower than anytime the hunter’s ever heard it, “So wonderful like this, so full…you smell divine, better than honey even or grape jelly.”

 

Dean ruts his hips upwards, desperate to feel him. Castiel hisses when Dean’s fingers find his hair, nails scratching his scalp before he tugs on his hair with urgency--he gets the rush, too, he can feel it urging him onward as well but he wants to make this last, to remember every second of this like it’s his final moments. “I want this to be perfect, Dean…” he mutters, pressing gentle, apologetic kisses into Dean’s thigh as they come up over his shoulders.  Dean whines.

 

Kissing has always fascinated Castiel. They can mean so many different things, with so many different people but right now as his lips lay trails to the tiny curls of Dean’s neatly trimmed hair, up the underside of the prominent vein of his throbbing cock, right on the tip when he pauses to look up at Dean with both eyes wide and full of wonder--these and the ones against Dean’s lips before are definitely his favorite of all he has experienced.

 

Dean shudders, a spasm shoots through both legs right down to his toes as he curls them, amazed at the strength in Cas’ arms, at the way he’s now sitting--waiting, practically begging. Castiel’s eyes are beautiful as he brings a hand down to stroke his cheek with his thumb, the Angel's eyes closing before the flesh between his legs disappears past soft pink lips, slowly, cautiously and then vanishes right to the hilt. He fists the locks of hair between both hands and trembles right down to his core as Cas moves his tongue and groans.  Dean bites his lip so hard he can taste copper as his lover’s fingers dig sharply into his ass when he slowly begins to suck lovingly.

 

Up and down, in and out--Dean’s eyes are watering as the fire burns in his stomach and he keeps swallowing the sounds that are building in the back of his throat. Castiel is so focused, gives off such an intensity and it feels so good wrapped around his lips, feeling the vacuum of him as he swallows Dean down and releases him nearly all the way each time. It’s dizzying, his mouth is so warm and wet and he never tires, never stops or slows. When Castiel moves faster, increases and hollows his cheeks Dean cries out desperately and Cas moans in victory. It’s the best thing he’s ever heard. He pulls off, a grin on his face, Dean flushed and gasping as he licks his lips.

 

“No..no-no-no…Cas, please!...” Dean doesn’t want it to stop. _Why, why is he stopping?!_ _I’m so close!_

 

“Shhh, Dean...” Cas whispers softly, hand stroking his thigh gently. The way it sounds makes Dean’s chest ache at how full of love and affection those words are as Cas leans up to kiss his chest, “I’d like to give you what you’ve been dreaming about--very much so, in fact...”  

 

Dean nods, no words to say loud enough the scream of _yes_ inside him. Cas fingers hover momentarily, sliding down to touch the silicone gently. It’s intriguing. He’s never had anything in that part of himself--never tried nor has he put anything inside someone that way. He’s watched the videos, though, read about this a thousand times since he saw the dreams, felt his own want stir and even experienced release at the thought of them in his private moments, and never with shame.

 

Dean whines, loudly as Cas slowly pulls the lubed toy from his now red, gaping hole. The lube pools near the bottom of him, Cas dropping the toy away to the side of the tub as he admires it. Dean clenches and releases, panting harder. He’s red, crazed with want and antsy--he just wants Cas to touch him, anywhere, and _now_. Slowly Cas lowers Dean’s legs, watching him slide down the white of the tub before Cas leans backwards. Dean watches, the male moving with feline grace as he lowers himself into the other side, eyes never leaving his own.  The water bobs around them, Cas powering up in a hue of blue that lowers the water level around them. It reveals his erect arousal, his long slender fingers around it as he strokes upwards, cum pearling on the top. Dean’s mouth waters. Castiel breathes out harshly, and Dean finally finds it in himself to move. He’s determined as he straddles Cas, hovers above him and slowly inserts two fingers. Castiel groans, rumbling the room from deep within his chest as Dean makes sure he's opened up enough, scissoring himself.

 

“So perfect...” Cas groans and Dean gasps, watching the movements and contortions in Cas’ face. He can’t believe this is where they are--what they're doing. He closes his eyes, trying to steady his nerves. Such a rush, such a pleasure and they haven’t even fucked yet.

 

It’s the Angel’s hand over his scar that breaks Dean’s thoughts, fingers still twitching, cock heavy and edging.  Cas’ hand is warm, comforting and grounding as Dean places a palm open over his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady yet worked up, all because of him. Dean moves, adjusting in the water that’s cooling off now and he couldn’t care less if it was ice. He can feel something inside him burn hotter than anything he has ever experienced with someone, and right now all he wants is to be one with the man he loves, with his Angel.

 

“I love you…"  Cas whispers, “I love you, Dean,” and the tears in those brilliant baby blues might as well be as beautiful as stars in a night sky. Dean nods, a smile on his face as he swallows, lining them up as Cas’ tip rests against him.

 

“I love you too, Cas--so damn much…” and Cas makes a choked sound, caught between almost crying and a laugh, a sound that tears something just the same from the back of Dean’s throat, “Now please…show me...I’m yours, Cas...yours..”

 

It’s a slow burn, Dean lowering down gently as he adjusts with a grunt before he settles down. He’s breathless, the feeling almost like being punched in the gut as he waits for Cas to move. The Angel's hands are warm on the hunter's hips, comforting and adding to the high of his experience. Slowly Cas urges him up, helping to steady him as he moves, both of them moving together like the roll of the waves on water, one moving, the other following to meet them in the same place each time. Dean’s tingling all over, and Castiel can feel his grace growing to reach out for Dean’s soul. On a spiritual level it is intense but it’s nothing compared to what he’s feeling physically each time Dean sinks down and they meet, whole and together.

 

It’s Cas who breaks first, his whole body buzzing as Dean finds a rhythm. His moan is loud over the sloshing of the water, over the sound of their bodies connecting and Dean’s heavy breathing. It takes more energy than Dean thought to ride Cas like this but as he adjusts, as he’s used to it, the more pleasurable it becomes. It’s like a lightning strike when he plunges down each time, his prostate shooting pleasure up and down his spine and making him shudder. The faster he goes, the more he snaps his hips when Cas raises to meet him, the better it becomes as they grow in intensity.  

 

Time moves slowly after that, the world falls away. It’s just this, only the sound of Dean and his heart filling Cas’ ears as they give it everything they have, pushing their bodies to the limits despite parts of them protesting their position, their surface. The ache only heightens Cas’ pleasure as he focuses, as he slides a hand down to steady the beautiful movements of Dean’s erection where it moves with each hard thrust, jumps when they connect again.

 

“Cas...so close.”

 

Castiel closes his eyes, lashes fluttering in pleasure, grace roaring like a river inside him. It hums with the vessel's blood in his veins as he strokes Dean each time he falls down, waiting to thrust up before doing it again. The combination makes Dean thrash, his grunt and groan a bit wild and definitely no longer unheard by anyone around them. He’s close, too, though, he can feel it. He remembers this feeling from having relations with April, from replaying Dean’s dreams in the dark corners of the bunker, in the bed when he was grace depleted and longing for the eldest Winchester.

 

“Dean,” he drawls out, “Dean…”

 

The hunter groans as Cas calls his name in a low octave that should be illegal to human ears, breath quick and getting quicker. The Angel’s hand is precise in its movements, pulling his orgasm closer, making his eyes roll back in his head as he tries to focus on fucking down, on rising to do it again.

 

“Yes--right--” Dean’s words trail off, his legs trembling now and Castiel watches as he exposes his throat to him, head tossed back and sweat in his hair, glistening in the light across his skin. It gleams, adds to the beauty of his shape of his strength and power. Up--down and harder, eyes igniting with grace--Castiel is close and his angelic being wants to feel their bond. Hand raising to the handprint rather than Dean’s hip, Cas’ eyes glow, low and bright, lighting up Dean’s form and casting shadows that dance on the wall of their love making.

 

The lights flash when Dean’s orgasm tears a choked off sound from the back of his throat. It's loud, makes Cas feel more powerful than his grace ever could as his seed splatters in thick ropes over Cas’ knuckles and chest. Dean hasn’t even time to recover when Castiel suddenly grabs him roughly, brain spinning as he lands on his back in the water, flipped as Castiel pounds into him, chanting in Enochian the most beautiful broken words and loving sentiments. Again, once more and Dean groans as well--Castiel feeling warm inside him, filling him as the light above him bursts and the hairs on Dean’s arm stand on end as the glass splinters around them like sharp pieces of confetti. Castiel’s voice is deafening.

 

They land in a heap, both of them panting before Dean finally begin to laugh, full-throated and from deep within his belly. Castiel cannot help but join him as they settle. Dean decides it's beautiful to hear it for the first time outside of the memories from his trip to the future, courtesy of that dick, Zachariah.

 

“Amazing,” and Castiel hums, snuggling into the crook of his hunter's neck.

 

“You were,” Castiel whispers, kissing at Dean’s fevered skin and tasting the salt upon it.

 

“ _We_ were...” Dean corrects, fingers through Cas’ hair before he shifts uncomfortably. Castiel moves, both of them lying side by side and staring at one another in the light of the only few bulbs left intact. “Though I can see you’ll be hard on the lights,” he chuckles at Cas’ blush, thumbing over his cheek again before pulling him in for another kiss. “I have to ask though--how did you know how to do that?” Castiel chuckles softly as Dean drains the tub.

 

They definitely need an actual bath now, and Dean has no objection to bubbles while wrapped in Cas’ arms and Sam saws logs on the other side of the door. Castiel spills all of the sexual knowledge filed away inside his head as Dean's fingers stroke along his knuckles softly. They leave only because the water is cold, their skin so pruney it looks a bit disturbing.

 

****

 

The sun is high in the sky that morning, warm as it shines across the blankets and high thread count sheets. Sam buries himself in his pillow, content and pleased as he stays dozing.  Slowly he blinks, taking in the view of the back of Dean’s head. Usually Sam would have rolled over, it isn’t like they had never shared a bed before--but something is off about Dean’s sleeping position, and all at once Sam is aware of why. Sitting straight up, confused and startled, he spies Cas’ bed headed form--t-shirt covered and below the blankets as a shirtless Dean is curled into his side, head on his shoulder rather than the pillow. There is a gap in the bed between Dean and Sam but definitely not with them as Cas rides the edge of the bed. The youngest hunter rubs the sleep from his eyes as the sun’s golden rays accent their features and he watches the rise and fall of their chests.

 

He looks around the room, Cas’ suit laid out over the back of the chairs--the Angel blade on the nightstand, his trench over the lamp shade by the door. All of their shoes are neatly beside the bed and Dean’s duffle is undisturbed by the end of it. He looks around one more time, back at the two asleep beside him and then grabs his phone.  It’s nearly 10am. Rubbing the back of his neck, Sam does the only logical thing he can. He takes a picture, smiling like a goofball and definitely forming the questions to ask later, before slipping into the bathroom for one last good soak before Dean stirred and wanted to eat.

 

Cas shifts when the tub starts and smiles down at Dean, kissing his forehead gently. Sleepy moss green eyes blink before shifting over to give Cas more room. Turning over, Cas encircles him tightly and Dean chuckles, “Never been the little spoon before.”

 

Castiel smiles, both of them content to lay there,  “Sam will be asking what happened.”

 

Dean chews his lip thoughtfully at Cas’ words before he grins devilishly. Castiel moans as Dean captures his lips in a bruising kiss, and gasps when Dean’s fingers slip past the waistband of his boxers, “I have a better idea--one that'll benefit us and make him _never_ in the mood to ask anything about this trip again--especially how this started…I do not want to have to explain that one to Sam”

 

Dean’s plan works. Sam never asks, and Dean never needs to sneak alone time in the shower again. After all, he’s got Castiel--who needs toys?

 


End file.
